


Harry Potter and the Sacred Apostate

by BlakeBroflovski



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Relationships, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-16 19:18:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8114320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlakeBroflovski/pseuds/BlakeBroflovski
Summary: "I can help you, Draco.""No, you can't," said Malfoy, his wand hand shaking very badly indeed.  "Nobody can.  He told me to do it or he'll kill me.  I've got no choice."





	

**Author's Note:**

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Harry Potter stood, frozen stock still by the enchantment that bound him, watching the exchange before him unfold with a mounting dumbfoundment that seemed it would never reach its peak.  Part of him wanted to appreciate a moment of triumph at all his year-long suspicions of Malfoy being vindicated, but it was too eclipsed by shock to form; a much larger part of him wanted the entire Order to burst through the door and put an end this unbelievable scene.  The largest part of him wished it weren't happening at all.

Dumbledore's voice had gone frail and wispy, but his words still carried clearly over the din from the corridor downstairs: 'Come over to the right side, Draco, and we can hide you more completely than you can possibly imagine.  What is more, I can send members of the Order to your mother tonight to hide her likewise.'

At the mention of his mother, something stirred in Malfoy's terrified face — a measure of awareness that had not been there before, as though he'd been sprayed by cold water.

Dumbledore seemed to have noticed this as well, because he went on, 'Your father is safe in Azkaban at the moment… but, when the time comes, we can protect him too.'

Malfoy's face flickered between fear and determination; he seemed to be battling with Dumbledore's words.

'Come over to the right side, Draco,' urged Dumbledore gently.  'You are not a killer….'

Malfoy stared at Dumbledore, for a moment struck mute.

'But I got this far, didn't I?' he said slowly.  'They thought I'd die in the attempt, but I'm here… and you're in my power… I'm the one with the wand….'  His wand arm had been starting to slacken as Dumbledore had spoken; now he pointed it anew, though his hand still shook like gelatin on a spoon.  Harry struggled harder than ever against the freezing enchantment, trying to cry out, to no avail as Malfoy said, almost speaking to himself now, 'You're at my mercy….'

'No, Draco,' said Dumbledore quietly.  'It is my mercy, and not yours, that matters now.'

Malfoy did not speak.  His mouth was open, his wand hand still trembling.  Harry thought he saw it drop by a fraction—

But suddenly a colossal explosion sounded from below, its thunder ripping up the staircase, rattling the wooden door in its hinges and making the flagstone floor vibrate beneath Harry's immobilised feet; it sounded as though the staircase itself had collapsed.  Malfoy yelped as he whirled toward the sound, his wand no longer pointed anywhere near Dumbledore — who, Harry realised with a cold shock, was staring directly at Harry himself.  Dumbledore's wizened hand, camouflaged against the rocky wall, twitched in his direction—

And with a sudden sagging of Harry's awkwardly propped-up back, he found he could move again.

He did not have time to wonder how Dumbledore had remobilised him without a wand, or why, before Dumbledore spoke again, his frail voice barely audible above the battle raging below.

'Draco…'

Malfoy seemed not to have heard; his face was drawn into a grimace of sheer terror, ghostly in the weird greenish glow of the Dark Mark, and he flinched badly as a voice shouted out from the stairwell, so close the words were almost discernible.

'Years ago, I knew a brave, talented boy who made all the wrong choices.  You do not have to be that boy, Draco, and you do not have to yield to him, either.  You have displayed extraordinary courage and independence all year.  It would be a terrible shame to undermine it now by allowing fear to push you into blind obedience.'

'I'm not afraid!' Malfoy bawled again, his voice riddled with fear.  He still did not look to Dumbledore as he spoke, but he took a backwards step away from the door, toward Dumbledore.  Harry began to raise his wand, but his stomach swooped as Dumbledore's eyes flicked toward him, and the headmaster gave an almost imperceptible shake of the head.

'Draco… please,' said Dumbledore softly.  'You and your family have been trapped for such a long, long time.  Let me help you out of it.'

This, at last, seemed to pull Malfoy out of his stupor: He slowly turned to look over his shoulder at Dumbledore, shaking from his hair to the shiny tips of his shoes; his wand arm had fallen quite limp at his side.

The word seemed to take an age to tumble from Malfoy's lips.

'How?'

'Let us deal with the long-term in a moment,' said Dumbledore, sliding another inch down the parapet.  A great strain seemed to have fallen from him, but rather than strengthen him, it served only to add to his weakness; there was less to fight against, now.  'There will be ample opportunity to discuss where you would like to go next, once we have removed you from this situation.'

One particular word had stuck out to Malfoy; he inclined his head minutely as he stared at Dumbledore, then his pale eyes darted again to the second broom.  'We?'

'Yes,' said Dumbledore, 'we.'  And he nodded toward the corner in which Harry stood, invisible.

Malfoy followed the line of his gaze, squinting around the darkened corner behind the door.  He began to raise his wand again, but not at Dumbledore; he pointed his wand into the shadows, at Harry, as he demanded, 'There _is_ someone else here, isn't there?  Show yourself!'

Harry was not afraid of Malfoy, but he was afraid of what too much delay could cost them, and the shouts and bangs echoing up the staircase from a mere few dozen feet away were like icicles in his skin.  He looked to Dumbledore, but the headmaster was quite beyond the ability to help; he had closed his eyes and appeared, for a horrifying moment, as though he might faint.

Not sure at all what to do without Dumbledore's guidance, but reasoning that Dumbledore would not have unfrozen him if he did not intend for him to move, Harry opened the Invisibility Cloak.

There was a long, drawn-out, blood-chilling moment, in which nobody moved while Draco stared at Harry's disembodied head and shoulders, his face an unreadable mask.

Then his upper lip curled into a snarl, and he said very quietly, _'You.'_

Another thunderous blast shook the tower, and multiple screams echoed up the stairs; for a moment, Malfoy seemed unsure where he ought to point his wand.  Moving quickly, Harry pocketed his own and held up his hands in a gesture of truce.  'I don't want to hurt you, Malfoy,' he said, not knowing what was spurring him on to speak, not daring to stop, not now, when nanoseconds counted.  'I never did, and I'm sorry that I have, but now's not the time for a schoolboy rivalry.  Now's the time to decide how you want to die — in two minutes, snivelling at Voldemort's feet like a coward, or many years from now, knowing you were brave when it counted.'

He held out a hand toward Malfoy.

Malfoy had flinched at the name, but he stood very rigidly now, his eyes flicking from the door, to Harry, to Harry's outstretched hand, to his own wand, back to the door.

His voice shook, but his words were not for Harry.

'Can you really protect my mother?'

Malfoy looked back toward Dumbledore.  The headmaster was barely keeping himself upright, but he mustered enough strength to look into Malfoy's petrified face with that piercing, x-raying stare, as though he could judge the entire contents of Malfoy's character and potential with one look, and gave a slow, quiet, encouraging nod.

A blast sounded in the stairs, and a thrill of horror coursed through Harry as a voice he did not know cried, 'I've broken through!  Snape, I've broken through!'

'Malfoy,' Harry hissed, waving his hand beseechingly.  His heart pounded against his ribs as though it, too, wanted nothing more than to escape.  'There's no time.  Come on.'

Footsteps thundered up the stairs; Malfoy looked wildly back and forth, but there was nothing to be done, no one to swoop in and pluck him up from having to make the choice.  With one final glance at Dumbledore, he stepped forward and clasped Harry's hand, allowing Harry to yank him under the cloak and whip it over their heads the very second the door burst open.

Two tall, black-robed figures broke out onto the tower.  The taller of the two had a heavy, brutal-looking face that Harry did not recognize.  The other was Snape.  His cold eyes swept the scene, from Dumbledore slumped against the parapet, to the pair of brooms beside him, where his gaze lingered.  Malfoy skittered backward around Harry, flattening himself against the battlement.

The first Death Eater surveyed the tower as well, but seemed not to see what Snape saw.  His wand pointed, far steadier than Malfoy's had been, directly at Dumbledore's heart.

'Good evening, Corban,' said Dumbledore congenially, as though running into an old friend on the street.

The Death Eater did not return his greeting.  'Where's the Malfoy boy gone, then?'

Behind Harry's back, Malfoy's breathing had gone heavy and ragged with panic.  Harry elbowed him to shut up; his Cloak was only good for going unseen, not unheard.

Dumbledore blinked at the Death Eater calmly.  'If you seek an audience with him, Corban, perhaps the Slytherin common room would be a better place to search for him.  Surely, even after all these years, you remember how to find it; otherwise, I am certain that Severus can guide you.'

'We're not looking to sit the boy down for a tea party and a friendly chat, old man,' said the Death Eater scathingly.  'He had business with you.'

'Did he?' said Dumbledore, nonplussed.  'There are several people with whom I have pressing business to attend to — my dear friend Kingsley, for instance,' he said, and Harry swore Dumbledore's eyes flickered to him for the space of a blink, 'but I do not recall making any appointments for myself this evening.'

'We know he came up here,' said the Death Eater, but Snape said nothing to corroborate this claim; rather, his black eyes now panned over the shadow where Harry and Malfoy stood.  Harry's heart leapt into his throat.  He began to reach for his wand, but Malfoy made the tiniest whimpering sound, and Harry turned his motion into spinning around to clamp a hand over Malfoy's mouth.  Malfoy stiffened, but did not fight back.

'Whatever you may have seen in the midst of what is doubtlessly the most thrilling and regaling battle unfolding below us, that could not possibly have obscured one's vision in any way, I am sure,' said Dumbledore quite calmly, for all the world as though he were asking about the weather, 'I can assure you, Corban, that Draco is not to be found here.'

'I know what I saw, old man, and we've got—'

'Enough,' Snape cut in.  'Do you not see the brooms, Yaxley?  Someone — or a group of someones, I daresay — has prepared for a hasty getaway.  Obviously, the boy has chosen to flee rather than perform his duties.'

Malfoy shuddered under Harry's hand as a sob racked his body, but he held his silence, even as tears flowed down his pointed face and over Harry’s hand.

'What then, Snape?' said the Death Eater sharply.  'The Dark Lord wants the boy to do it, and if he's not here, we've been presented with a bit of a problem, haven't—'

But somebody else had spoken Snape's name, quite softly.

'Severus…'

The sound frightened Harry beyond anything he had experienced all evening, beyond Malfoy's indecision, beyond Snape's presence, beyond a lake full of Inferi; the voice that had come out of Dumbledore on the island spilled from him again, but now, without the influence of the potion.  For the first time, Dumbledore was pleading.

'You swore, Severus… you swore to protect him….'

Snape said nothing.  He only stared at Dumbledore, and there was revulsion and hatred etched into the lines of his face.

'Severus… please…'

Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore.

_'Avada Kedavra!'_

Malfoy's head jerked out from under Harry's hand, scrunching his eyes and hiding his face as a jet of green light shot from the end of Snape's wand and hit Dumbledore squarely in the chest.  Harry may as well have been immobilised all over again; unable to move or scream, he was forced to watch as Dumbledore was blasted into the air.  For a split second that lasted an age, he seemed to hang suspended beneath the shining green skull.  Then he fell slowly backward, like a rag doll, over the battlements and out of sight.

**Author's Note:**

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